


Bed Head

by LizRambler



Series: Sleepovers [11]
Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-12
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:33:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22684033
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizRambler/pseuds/LizRambler
Summary: Tentoo suffers a collapse. Rose must enter his mind to fix it. Weird dream/mindscape fun.
Relationships: Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: Sleepovers [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1531835
Comments: 26
Kudos: 74





	1. Chapter 1

Sonicking his way into their flat, the Doctor stumbled. Black was creeping around the edges of his vision. Everything was a bit spotty in the center too. The room had been painted a soft Tiffany’s blue and now he couldn’t see anything but gray. Not good, not good, not very good at all. Hissing, he kicked off his new vibrant blue chucks and stumbled against the wall. Timelord reflexes caught the wall with one hand, preventing a fall. Two weeks into living here and both he and Rose Tyler had managed to clutter the entryway with an annoying hazardous pile of random shoes. Leaning into the hand pressed against the wall, he let it and the wall take his weight as another rush of pain surged through him. Glancing up, he spotted his reflection.

Haggard. He looked like someone who had fought a platoon of Judoon. His pale face and messy hair blurred, shifted, as the pain pulsed with his singular heartbeat. Blinking made the blurriness increase and the small LED light on Rose’s charger made his photoreceptors scream. “Migraine,” he told his fuzzy reflection. “Nothing caffeine, loads of caffeine, some Doctor friendly painkillers, and a good lie down won’t cure.”

The reflection snapped into focus on the wrong face. Stronger features emerged, bigger ears, much bigger ears, close-cropped dark hair, and bright blue eyes all wrapped in black leather stared disapprovingly at him from within the glass. “And just when are you going to tell Rose about these migraines?” his reflection asked mildly in his old Northern-y voice. His old self, well, not his old self, more his ‘old old self’ or ‘old and a half self’?

“What are you doing in my mirror?” he asked, as the older-oldish version of him wavered and the smell of last night’s curry dinner in the bin rose from the dead to make his stomachs flip.

“Don’t be daft.” Great, he was still rude even under glass, the Doctor thought as bile rose up. Oh? Was he still talking? The Doctor concentrated on taking shallow breaths. What possessed them to get a green curry last night? The scent was so…pungent now and so were the shoes beneath him. He grimaced.

“I’m not in your mirror, you lanky half-ape. I’m in your head. I am using this mirror to chastise you.” His old self crossed his arms and smirked at him. “Consider yourself chastised.”

“Yes, thanks for that, very helpful,” the Doctor muttered, taking a few more shallow breaths. Everything smelled awful and he could hear the electricity running through the building. He was going to vomit, possibly on the mirror in a mo’. Served his other self-right.

“Breathing through the pain isn’t going to cut it,” the Northern accented version of him said, in his smug yet annoyingly concerned way.

“Caffeine will help,” the Doctor advised him---self. “Tea.”

“Toddle on over there,” scoffed the other Doctor, “Mind you don’t conk your head and bleed out all over the floor. We’ve already done that one.”

Grunting, he pushed off the wall, letting his suit jacket drop to the floor. The LED was pulsing in time to his heartbeat. Pulse pain, pulse pain, pulse... He managed to get the kettle flipped on, grateful it still had water in it from breakfast. The pain was a ring around his head pressing and pressing. He lifted the spoon and saw his old self reflected in the shiny metal.  
“How long has this been going on?”

“Oh, come on, you’re me, you know,” he whispered since sounds were so sound-y and intense. 

“I see, long enough for your brains to leak out of your ears, or else you would have told Rose,” the tiny reflection said, his voice echoing and ricochetting around behind the Doctor’s eyes. He closed his eyes, concentrating on making his other self go away. He did not. He just sat there all reflective and right. He should have told Rose. He would tell Rose. When he was feeling better. Not that he could admit it to himself. No, nope, not happening.

“Luckily, I have much smaller ears this time ‘round. Can’t get out all at once,” he murmured warming to his subject. “Let’s face it, with my old ears it would have all gone out at once. Now shush, your voice is like a thousand needles being shoved directly into my cerebral cortex.” 

He flipped the switch off on the kettle, pouring the boiling water into his mug with this universe's poor excuse for tea. The Doctor took great pleasure in dunking the spoon in. He imagined drowning his old self in milk and sugar. Dropping the spoon, he pulled the bottle of pills he kept close out of his pocket and downed several. The act of swallowing hurt. He grunted. “I can feel every hair follicle individually. They hate me incidentally,” he moaned.

“Weeks,” the Northern one said. “You’ve gone weeks letting your brains turn to soup.”

The Doctor glanced up to see his old self now reflected on the side of the toaster. “It’s not every day,” he argued, grimacing as the hot tea burnt his tongue. “And never this bad, never ever ever ever this bad.”

The concerned look on his old face frightened him. He seemed worried. If his inner selves were worried… that was bad. Or at least it wasn’t great... “Doctor, stop being stubborn. You need to tell Rose,” he told himself.

“I will,” he promised. Later… much later when he had a grasp on what exactly was happening. He didn’t want to worry her unnecessarily. He didn’t want to disappoint her or scare her with his soup brains.

“You won’t. You’re a coward.”

The Doctor blew on his tea. Was breathing always painful? The waves of pain were not ebbing so much as flowing, a tidal wave of pain. Dropping his head to the cold counter helped for a few seconds as his brain processed the lower temperature of the granite versus his skull. “It’s a headache. I’m fine. Stress. Tension. New life, new job, new body stress.”

The reflection harrumphed. His old self was Scrooge, wasn’t he? Had to be. “Say, ‘bah humbug,’ for me,” he suggested as the tea refused to settle in his stomach.

“Rose needs to know.”

“Oh, you’re like a broken record!” The Doctor growled, unsure why he was bothering to argue with his own self-conscious anyhow. 

“This could be a reaction to being cut off from all telepathic contact. You’ve no Tardis…” the other one said as if he hadn’t thought of that himself. Like he needed another version of himself to point out things he knew like the back of his hand. Rude. Rude. Rude.

“I have one!”

“You have a cutting,” the other one argued. “She’s not strong enough.”

“Don’t you dare! She’s perfect! She’s good, spunky.” The Doctor winced. He must not yell at himself. Not when he was terrified his other self would voice his real fear--

“Or it could be a reaction to stuffing my fantastic brain into that ridiculous hybrid construct you call a body.”

“There’s a compliment in there somewhere,” the Doctor muttered against the countertop.

The other Doctor fell silent. Hoping he had gone back to the past and taken his stupid ears with him, the Doctor lifted his head to meet the other’s worried blue eyes. “I can’t, I can’t tell her. Not yet. Not until I know...” He watched his reflection’s eyebrows go up. He rolled his eyes. Rassilon! What a mistake! His whole body protested. “What if it means...I’m failing?”

There was no answer from his past self. His vision blurred. Once it cleared he was alone. 

“Fat lotta help you are,” the Doctor complained, as he dragged himself to their bed. 

Stripping down, he slipped under the covers and drew them up over his head. Sleep was what he needed. He’d be fine by the time Rose got home from work. Lying down did not relieve the excruciating pain. Panting, he was annoyed by his own skin, the air, the sound of the heater. His only comfort was his migraine enhanced senses surrounded him with the comforting scent of Rose. His eyes slid shut. He prayed for sleep. When it came, it sucked him down deep, so deep he never heard Rose come home. He didn’t hear her call his name. He certainly didn’t see her panic at his still form in the bed.

The thing that never got less annoying was being inside here with so many other versions of yourself. The Doctor straightened his cyan polka dot cravat and shrugged his patchwork coat onto his shoulders. He had been avoiding the others for a few weeks now, preferring to stick to the edges of the Doctor’s mind. He’d been a bit broody as if he’d changed or something had shifted. The others had respected his need for solitude. Perhaps they had also felt unsettled? Either way, he was quite surprised to hear a voice calling him.

“Doctor! Hello? Doctor?” 

The Doctor bounded out of his calm white Tardis into utter chaos. He recoiled as emotions slammed into him from every direction. The current Doctor’s mind was a massive red lightning storm. That was...new? High winds buffeted him. Sharp hail pelted him with memories of the time he had destroyed the Vervoids. Nausea crept up on him, making him stumble. Others were there, the one who didn’t mingle at all was there in all his black leather glory. Now what had brought him out of the woodwork? He was stood beside the dandy with his gray locks blowing in the nightmare winds. They were deep in discussion. Neither seemed to notice the girl calling. The Doctor walked briskly past them, buttoning his coat against the weather as a memory of sinking in quicksand hit his arm. Madness. This was madness. The current Doctor had gone insane. He wasn’t surprised. It was very difficult being the Doctor in the best of time. Unfortunately, it wasn’t even the first time. He grimaced, thinking of the Valeyard.

“Where are you?” the Doctor bellowed, hoping the voice could hear him over all of--this!

“Over here,” she called, her voice filling him with relief. He knew that voice. He liked that voice. Lightning flashed, turning the space before him into a molten pit of neurons. Sidestepping it, he found Rose Tyler hanging off of a ledge. “Well, Rose Marion Tyler, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes!” 

The Doctor grabbed her hands. Relief, affection, worry, panic all slammed into him through the skin where their hands were joined. He dragged her up off of the cliff edge. The pink and yellow human girl crashed into him. He returned her death grip, basking in her lovely presence. How he’d missed her! He never had gotten the memories of her from the current Doctor… Shame that... Her panic radiated out of her into him as she rambled, “You won’t wake up! I tried shoutin’. I splashed water on you. I shook you and…” She blubbered into his lapels. 

“Now, there’s no need for all that,” the Doctor cooed, comforting the slight girl and she was a bit slighter than he remembered, older too, hardly a girl anymore. He really did need to keep up. They had all felt the strange pull of regeneration. The Cricket One had mentioned it felt different this time but he always said that. “I’m alright. Although, the weather here is a bit much. Am I having a mental breakdown, do you think?” he asked, holding onto her.

Her beautiful caramel eyes stared into his. She was a breathtaking creature. He was glad she was still with him. Companions never seemed to last long. Rose bit her lip. “You’ve been having headaches. Didn’t think I’d noticed.”

“But of course you die, you clever woman,” he praised.

Rose’s expression grew stony and stubborn. “Why would you hide anything from me?”

“Ah, yes, well, I’m sure I had good reason-” he dissembled. Rose was unimpressed. The full weight of her anger hit him like a heatwave. He wilted, lifting his hands in mild surrender, “Alright, I’m sure I’m an idiot. These headaches could be related. Come along, let’s get you somewhere less chaotic.” The Doctor grabbed Rose’s hand and dragged her out of the mouth of the storm and back into his quiet corner. The Tardis formed around them, white, safe, and humming gently in her direction. “Now,” he said gripping her biceps so he could maintain eye contact. “Tell me everything.”

Rose nodded. “I noticed him, um, you being light sensitive. Thought it was time for a new pair of glasses. But then Mum said you weren’t working a full day all the time. And when I’d come home you’d be pale and trying to cover it up.”

“Wait-from work? I have a job?” The Doctor was offended. Him? A job? No, never.

Rose arched a brow.

“Yes, not the right question. Focus Doctor.” He snapped his fingers. “Migraines,” the Doctor guessed. “Odd. I’ve never suffered from migraines before. Amnesia, yes, concussions most certainly. But migraines? Unheard of. Wait… Maybe that was the right question after all? Why do I have a job? I never have jobs…” he trailed off as Rose gave him a weak smile and a warm feeling of affection practically bubbled up out of her. “What?”

“I remember meeting you, this you. I remember you,” Rose’s weak grin grew in wattage. “Thought it was a dream. But here you are and in his head,” she added in wonder.

“My dear girl, I’m sure I have no idea what you are getting at. How did you get in my mind again if not through me?” he asked as he turned to the Tardis to run some scans. 

“Will that work?” Rose asked, sidling up next to him.

“What? Oh, hm, yes, I suppose. I remember how the scanner works, so it would stand that I would react to it as if it were in reality. Answer me, Rose.” He stopped fiddling to pin her with a stare.

“Told you, I was shaking you to wake you. Your hands started,” Rose’s hands mimed the position of his fingers for making contact. “So I um, touched your temples.”

“You? You initiated the telepathic contact? On your own? Extraordinary,’ he remarked as the door to his Tardis blew open and the little one in the Panama Hat slipped inside. He glared.

“Oh, do stop your glowering,” he said, rolling his ‘r’s, ridiculously. “Or haven’t you noticed the chaos outside? No. You wouldn’t would you? You’d rather separate yourself, wouldn’t you?”

“For your information,” he boomed, annoyed at the intrusions, “I’ve been into the maelstrom already. And, I might add, we have a visitor so mind your manners, if you can,” he admonished, waving at Rose whose eyes were bright with curiosity.

“I can do anything you can do bitter,” the little one in the Panama Hat said.

“Better,” Rose corrected.

“Rose Marion Tyler, you’re right, that is better! I’m the Doctor,” he said, offering her his hand. Rose shook his hand, amused. The Doctor huffed. The Panama Hat One winked at her. Rapscallion. 

“She knows who you are. There’s nobody in here but the Doctor.” the Doctor growled. His scanner pinged.

“That storm out there is getting worse,” the Panama Hat One said. “We’ve got to do something to help.”

“I’m running a neural scan,” he informed himself. “Rose’s consciousness is here to help.” the Doctor scanned the numbers. “No, no, no none of these numbers are correct.” He slapped the Tardis scanner. 

Rose flinched. “She doesn’t like when you do that.” Rose’s eyes glowed faintly golden. There was an answering ping from the Tardis. The Doctors stared at her. “She doesn’t,” Rose reiterated.

Unperturbed, he carried on, “Then she should do as I ask and scan properly. These numbers are utter nonsense! For these to work, the Doctor would have had to have done something dramatically stupid to his TNA.”

The little one in the Panama Hat hummed. “Did you feel the regeneration--?”

The door popped open again disgorging the one in the Velvet Frock Coat. The Doctor rolled his eyes, “Oh, no, this is not happening. I don’t need all of you in here mucking about.”

“And they call me rude,” the Velvet Frock Coat One remarked. “I have come to help myself.”

The Tardis glitched around them, flashing to the larger version the Velvet Frock Coat preferred. He grimaced, “Sorry, the desktop…”

“Stop dithering,” the Doctor told him. “Tell me why these scans are telling me that the current version of me only has one heart and a human endocrine system.”

“My eyes have always been human,” the Velvet Frock Coat said. “Could a future regeneration have activated more of the human DNA?”

Rose gasped. The Doctor supposed he hadn’t bothered to explain his extraordinary parentage to the girl. The Current Doctor was probably a bit of an idiot if he had been masking symptoms and believing Rose wouldn’t notice. The human woman was practically preternatural. 

The little one in the Panama Hat shook his head. “No, the Timelords would never allow that. Too close to the Abominations. They’d hunt us down and clean our TNA. Purity of species and all that rot.”

“Yet they let Leela freely breed on Gallifrey,” the one in the Velvet Frock Coat remarked.

“Try and stop her,” the Doctor said to the amusement of all the Doctors in the room.

Rose whistled to catch their attention. All eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah, the Doctor, this Doctor he split off from the other one. He’s only got the one heart.”

The Doctor stilled. 

“Impossible,” The little one in the Panama Hat whispered.

“Ah, ah, ah, improbable,” the one in the Velvet Frock Coat remarked, “impractical, insane maybe, but never impossible.” 

The Doctor didn’t like the way Rose was looking at that version. He had an overt sexuality that was un-Doctorish in his opinion. Rose was too smart to fall for his charisma, wasn’t she? Besides, he was the superior model. And just watch him prove it. “Not impossible at all. Of course, he would need a is a limb cut off in the first fifteen hours of his regeneration cycle, somehow preserved in an aqueous solution. The receptacle then need only be primed with excess artron energy. Whatever entity touched it then would be like touchpaper. Instant bio metacrisis.”

“Yes!” Bounced the one in the Velvet Frock Coat, saying, “The donor DNA would then corrupt the original creating any number of hybrid types. Poor sod who did it though, a Timelord consciousness would destroy a human body. Sad.” 

Rose was biting her lip, a stricken look on her face. “The other one would die? The human one?” Waves of sadness escaped her. The Tardis lights dimmed. The center console lights shifting to blue in mourning. 

“Yes,” the one on the Velvet Frock Coat said in his guileless way. Moron. It was obvious that Rose knew exactly who had sacrificed themselves to create this Doctor scion. 

“I’m sorry my dear,” the little one in the Panama Hat said.

“Now, now,” the Doctor said waving them off, “that’s not necessarily true. Let’s not forget that I am a genius. The human donor could be preserved if I acted fast enough. And we all know that I am used to acting decisively.”

“How?” Rose asked coming close to him, dousing him in her lovely little hopes. He shivered.

“Full memory block for the timelord mind, with an exorcising of all the tainted memories from the host.” It would be a cruel and terrible thing to do but it would work. “Do that and the human would go on to live a normal life.”

“Oh,” Rose said sadly. “Poor Donna, she was brilliant.”

“Rose, it’s painless,” the Doctor informed her. “She would never know what she had lost.”

“Don’t think we’re not going to talk about that when you’re okay,” Rose said, her eyes glowing faintly golden again. 

“The Timelord hybrid would and should be fairly stable.” The Velvet Frock Coat offered.

“Yes,” the Panama Hat One agreed. “Then why the headaches?”

“Dunno,” the Doctor said, scratching at his curly head. “Unless... “

“Ah yes,” the other two agreed. 

“Doctor,” Rose growled.

“We should consult the others,” the little one in the Panama Hat said. “Maybe the solution has occurred to one of the others.”

The relative peace of the Doctor’s console room exploded into chaos as the doors melted away. The Doctors surrounded Rose, trying to protect her from the waves of pure pain and emotion. The Doctor grabbed Rose’s hand and started forward. Rose gripped his hand tightly. All four moved forward as the red lightning smashed his console to bits. A bit of the red light had hit the one in the Panama Hat. Rose yelped. The Doctor turned to see the one in the Panama Hat’s eyes had shifted to cat’s eyes. The Velvet Frock Coat raised his eyebrows at the Doctor.

“This maelstrom is an actual Maelstrom. We’re being hit with worse versions of ourselves as the current Doctor cycles through memories,” he guessed, racing along beside them as they crossed a quarry. “Your eyes have gone funny,” he said to the little one in the Panama Hat.

“Yes, I’m feeling a bit,” he huffed, “murderous. Go on ahead! GO! GO!!!”

The Doctor pulled Rose along putting space between them and the little one in the Panama Hat before coming to a dead stop as a blast of red lightning hit his arm. “Oh,” he murmured as a memory came unbidden to him; his hands around Peri’s throat, squeezing. “I can’t…” he gasped. “I can’t. I’m not safe.”

Rose was comforting the Rainbow Coat One while the Doctor stood by, puzzled as his former self announced, “I have to go back.”

“Whatever for?!” he demanded as the Rainbow Coat One pulled away from Rose. His blue eyes wide with panic, he stared at the Doctor willing him to remember. The Doctor frowned. There was something, wasn’t there? This version of him had been born from poisoning… He had been unstable for years after. He had… oh, dear. “Rose, come away from me now.”

Rose dithered.

“Now Rose, come away. I admire your loyalty to me but come away now. I’ll take you where you need to go,” the Doctor held his hand out while the Rainbow Coat One encouraged her, waving her off again when she tried to grab his arm.

“We can’t just leave him behind,” she said.

“Yes, we can,” the Doctor insisted as the other one’s eyes vacillated between concern for Rose and a growing mania. “I’ll be fine. Once we fix this, alright?”

“Go!” the Rainbow Coat One shouted. “NOW ROSE RUN!”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Eighth Doctor takes over from the Sixth in helping Rose get to the center of the maelstrom.

Rose ran. The Doctor grabbed her hand, her confusion rolling off of her and slammed into him. 

“We need to avoid the red lightning. It appears to be shifting us, the older Doctors into the worst versions of ourselves and I regret to inform you that I was once infected by a deadly creature from Gallifreyan Myth.”

“Oh, of course, you were,” Rose grumbled. They raced along a ridge as the quarry narrowed. The sky above was orange, wild with clouds and lightning. Twice Rose pulled him away from an instant before the lightning would have caught him. The third time, she growled, “Where the hell are we going?”

“Good question,” the Doctor said as they ran off the ridge into a wood. “Ah, navigating a damaged mindscape isn’t as easy as finding the local library, Rose Tyler. Up you get,” he lifted her over a low wall. They crashed down into a patch of thick moss. 

The Little One was under there, bowtie askew. “Oh my, oh crumbs. Hello. Wonderful weather we’re having.”

The Doctor snorted. “Yes, lovely. Think I’ll pass on the murderous lightning just now, thanks.”

“Yeah, he’s an evil god when he’s in a bad mood,” Rose added with a wink. 

The Little One was overjoyed. “Rose Tyler! You’re here, excellent! Hurrah!” 

“That’s me, hooray!” Rose said sarcastically and the Doctor rather thought she was brilliant. He beamed at her. She gripped his hand. Warmth flushed his whole form. Now he knew why the Rainbow Coat was so nervous about the interloper Doctors. He wanted this fabulous creature all to himself. And currently, she was almost all his. “Why are we cheering?”

“Ah, yes, well,’ the Little One began, wringing his hands, “You’ve realized why we’re a bit unhinged, yes?”

“Yes,” the Doctor agreed. “An unbound telepathic mind is a terrible thing. What does that have to do with Miss Tyler--Oh! I see! That’s very presumptuous of you, erm me.” 

“Is it?” The Little One frowned. “I was under the impression we were…” he smiled softly at Rose, “together.”

Rose blushed prettily in reaction. The Doctor allowed her to pull him closer to hide her expression from his earlier self. She need never know all the rather intimate emotions she was flooding him with even if the disapproving expression on the Little One’s face said he was aware. The Doctor huffed at both his disapproval and his audacity at what he was suggesting. “You had no idea she would be coming here. What were you planning on doing if she didn’t slip in here?”

“But she did, and now she’s here,” the Little One grinned, “so your point is moot.”

“Moot? Why you little vagabond! It’s very not moot. It’s incredibly relevant to the--”

“Look out!” Rose shoved the Little One as a stray bolt of red light had almost got him. “And what do you turn into if the lightning hits you?”

The Doctors looked at one another. “Salamander?” the Doctor offered. 

“Or an Androgum.”

“Oh,” the Doctor paused, “I’d forgotten about that one.”

“What’s an Androgum?” Rose asked glancing between them.

“It’s a tall fierce albeit sentient creature… They are warlike. Dangerous. They like to eat people as I recall.” The Doctor was vaguely nauseous from the memory of it.

The Little One grimaced. “Yes, that’s only slightly less dangerous than Zagreus, isn’t it?”

“Oh, here we go! You become one ancient monster composed of myth and antimatter and they never let you forget it,” he said to Rose. “We need to keep moving. These trees are listening.”

The trio moved through the forest. The wind smelled like pears. Both Doctors grimaced. The little one covered his mouth with a handkerchief. Rose was unbothered. The Doctor wondered if he had been mad to pick a woman who liked pears, the foul woody things!

“What do you need me to do?” Rose asked. “Because it’s clear I’m here to save your life. It’s sort of my job.”

“Wonderful,” the Doctor complimented, forgiving her for the pears. 

“Take Rose, up,” the Little One pointed, “to the center. There you’ll find Him and the Current Doctor, I think. Once there, Rose, you will need to ground the Doctor. A simple mind link should do it.” 

“There’s nothing simple about a mind-” 

Lightning hit the moss. They scattered. The Doctor reached for Rose’s hand. She drew him to his feet. They ran over the moss until it switched to Tardis decking then shifted back to loose stony shale. She slipped on scree. He righted her. “Careful now.”

The Little One was gone. 

“He’ll be alright,” he shouted as the sky opened up and rain soaked them through in seconds. Pings of water soaked him in his own memories. He hissed. Had he really been injured that often? “We need to move.”

Rose nodded. “How do I form a mind link?”

“You touch him. The link forms automatically in situations like this. His/Our mind will crave the connection. It’s instinctual.” 

The Doctor helped her over the larger rocks, supporting her. Rose was a good climber but his mind was unstable. The landscapes shifted to space station flooring, to corridors, to trees, to Tardis walls in a dizzying array. He skittered on some Tractatus slime. “Ewugh!”

“What happens if the rain turns you into that Zah grey us thing?”

“Zagreus,” he corrected absently, feeling the name resonate uncomfortably within his form. “I suppose Charley would be along presently to stab me with a big sword.”

“Seriously?”

He shrugged. “Why not? That’s what happened the first time.” He gave her a reassuring grin. “I survived it, of course. I’m practically immortal...well, I was. Now I’ve plucked out one of my hearts for a human girl.” 

“Regretting it, are ya?” Rose teased her insecurity slipping in and out of his thoughts.

“No, I only regret that an older me met you first, the lucky sod. Bet it took him minutes to appreciate your wit and charm,” he teased, sensing the center wavering off in the distance.

Rose scoffed. “And how long would it have taken you to appreciate my wiles?”

“Oh, seconds, nanoseconds… Less than one rel. Come on! He’s waiting for us. He thinks he’s the boss of us since we were all Him once. But what does he know? He’s a Time Tot compared to me.”

The Doctor stopped. Rose pulled him. He pulled her roughly back to his side. “Sh!” he hissed. The ground beneath their feet rumbled. “No, no, never mind, RUN.”

The ground creaked and groaned as they raced along it. Behind them, gaping chasms opened. Whole memories fell into it. A lonely Cyberman took a potshot at them as it tipped in. Rose shoved him down and the blast exploded a chunk of the pantry from Charley’s haunted childhood home. He let Rose drag him past smashed jam jars and out the other side into a peaceful garden. 

“They eye of the storm, as they say,” the Doctor said as they passed a few daffodils. 

“We have to be close to the Current Doctor by now, right?” Rose asked, eyes bright with worry.

“I’ve no idea. It’s my mind. It’s quite literally infinite. Limited by imagination, and that’s no real limitation for someone who's seen and experienced as much as I have.” The Doctor paused. Something felt off. He smacked his lips together. Was he tasting antimatter? No… not matter, no, it had the tangy mango aftertaste of anti-time. “Uh oh.”

He glanced around desperately for another version of himself to hand Rose off to like a relay race baton. “Where the hell am I when I need me?” he demanded. “Any other time and I am positively lurking behind every bush.”

“Doctor, your eyes,” Rose reached out a hand to touch him.

He recoiled. “DON’T.”

“Your face, your eyes are glowing, sort of weird blacklight. How do I stop it?” Rose’s worried eyes were all for him now. Too bad he was going to shred her mind--no, NO. He fought the urges. Where was he? Useless. So many versions and never one around when he needed one. 

“Don’t suppose you have a Vorpal Sword on you?”

“Like from Alice in Wonderland? I could imagine one?” 

“No, nope. Too late, best run. Keep heading up.” 

The Doctor wanted something… what was it? Right, to destroy the known universe. Yes, that was it. A small human female stood before him. He blinked. “No, Charley, you’ll be safe in the Tardis…”

“I’m not Charley, I’m Rose, Doctor.”

“There’s no Doctor here, Charley. No, there’s only me.” He felt the energy crackling around him. He felt her fear. It tasted delicious. 

“Right, I’m just gonna run… I should run. Yes. Right, Rose, right, good. BYE!” The human female bounded up the hill. 

He gave chase. She was rabbiting in and out of the blood-red trees of Trion. The thick trunks were enormous and made it hard to keep her in his sights. The Doctor didn’t need to see her to catch her. Her mental signature smelled like strawberry shampoo. 

Things were getting ridiculous in here, the Doctor thought as he stared up at the three moons of Trion. The air tingled with the mango tang of antimatter and if he wasn’t mistaken that Pretty Boy in Velvet had reverted to Zagreus. Annoying. If that stupid half-ape had only told Rose about this it could have all been avoided. Now, here he was standing on a ridge by the large oceans of Trion waiting for Rose to escape the purple and mauve leaves of a blood-red tree forest. Out there Zagreus raged, howling, and calling for Rose to stop. 

“Rose Marion Tyler,” he boomed.

A small voice called back, “Doctor?”

“Well, who else would it be?” he shouted back. Surely one of the foppish, lovesick idiots had told her that it was only us chickens in here? “Now come on! I haven’t brought a vorpal blade. And I’m not in the mood to go snicker-snack just now, thanks.”

Crossing his arms, he stared as if his intensity could produce his companion. The trees rustled. His other self appeared on a large limb, scouting. The Doctor bunged a rock at him. Zagreus dropped out of the tree. Black lightning exploded around him, showering the Doctor with mauve leaves. Good. Served him right for letting himself get possessed by a creature of myth in the first place. Pretty idiot.

“I’m waiting,” he called.

“Yeah well, keep waiting,” Rose grumbled. “Your head is not easy to navigate,” Rose called back and he spotted her hair glowing golden in the light of the moons. 

“Tell me about it.” He beamed.

Rose picked up speed, tossing herself into his waiting arms. He squeezed. Dropping her, he slid his hand down to grab her hand. “C’mon, I’ve been a right moron today. Need your help to fix it.”

“I’m going to remember forever that you said that,” Rose grinned with her signature tongue-touched smile making his hearts race. “The day the Doctor finally admitted he was a moron. So much for superior intellect.” 

“Today,” he emphasized, swinging their arms as they walked up a gentle earth hill. 

“No, nuh-uh, you can’t take it back now. I heard it.” She tapped her head.

“You’ll forget all this in a day. Muzzy human brain,” he goaded, just to enjoy her playful swats. “Hurry along now, you’ve got work to do.”

“Doctor,” Rose tugged him to a stop. “Will it hurt?”

“Will what hurt?”

“The mind link or whatever? Will it hurt...you?”

The Doctor felt his hearts expand. “No, precious girl, it won’t hurt. In fact, it will be the exact opposite of hurt.”

“How opposite?” Rose asked, not willingly allowing him to drag her along into a London street.

He grinned. She swatted him. He grinned more. The still point was near. He pushed her ahead of him. “Go on up there and talk to Him about this.”

“What about the storm? It’s been quiet since I…”

“Yeah, since you met me.” Chuffed, he swung their hands. “The rest of me, they’re from a gentler time. Not me. Bad memories are all I’ve got. I’m already the worst version of me, Rose Tyler.” He sighed feeling the weight of all the deaths heavy around his shoulders.

“Not all of them were bad,” she said, “there’s still me.”

“Yeah, reckon we made a handful of good ‘uns. Now go on before his brains are complete soup.” The Doctor pushed her forward, letting her go. Felt like he was always doing that these days… 

“You’re not coming?”

“Nah, go on.” He shooed her.

The London streets shifted and changed until they were outside the Estates. The Doctor grinned. Rose’s eyes were wide. “I’m home?”  
“Not yet, go on, shake a leg, Tyler. Soup brains.”

Rose ran.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is just basically Rose in Wonderland... heh heh dreamscapes are weird.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose rescues the Doctor and a surprise narrator!

“There must be something we can do!” she shouted at the elegant older man with the shoulder-length white hair. He was dressed like something out of an Edwardian drama and gripping his lapels tightly, as they observed the Doctor lying unconscious in the bed. She tucked him in tighter before turning back to the older gentleman to plead with him again.

“My dear there’s no use in continuing to berate me,” he said, forestalling her. He reached into his pocket and drew out a fob watch. He checked the time. “I can do nothing for the lad until the girl arrives.”

“What girl? Why won’t you tell me what girl? And whose house is this? It’s not mine. Is it yours?”

“It certainly is not!” Offended, he snapped his watch shut. “Perhaps you would feel better if you did something? Mm? Tea perhaps?”

“Yeah, alright,” she agreed, patting the Doctor’s hand as she stood up to rub at her eyes. The Doctor’s skin was gray. The scattering of freckles across his nose were standing out in stark relief. His brown hair was flat and every time he grimaced, thunder rumbled. Too weird! She moved passed the older man as he moved to take her place. She heard him whisper something encouraging, ending in, ‘dear boy.’ She sighed walking into the yellow kitchen.

The flat was homey if worn with its fake leather sofa covered in fuzzy pillows and the empty family frames on the wall. The room the Doctor was in had a damaged wall with recent patching to it and the door. She filled the kettle. The doorknob rattled. She froze, two mugs in hand. The door popped open and in walked Rose Tyler.

“OH MY GOD!” she shouted. 

Rose stalled out. Her eyes went wide in shock. “Donna?”

“ROSE!” Donna dropped the mugs in favor of rushing to hug the blonde. Rose hugged her back. Oddly, Donna felt the other woman’s emotions. “You’re shocked and sad, and worried, and happy, so… Your emotions are sort of pink. Why do I know that? What the hell is happening?”

“Sorry, you’re not supposed to be in here,” Rose said, “And no, I’, sure you’re not telepathic.”

“No, not me,” Donna agreed. “Feel something then touch my hand.” Rose did and Donna pulled her hand away to chuckle. “You missed me!”

“I did! I thought the Doctor was the only one in here,” she added, pretty face creased with puzzlement.

“You are correct, young woman,” the older gentleman said, appearing in the living room. “You’re late. I felt you arrive ages ago. What’s kept you?”

“What’s kept me?” Rose was practically growling. Donna took a step back as Rose’s eyes glittered dangerously. “You, you idiot. Have you seen what’s happening in here? You’ve tried to kill me.”

“Did I indeed? How curious,” the gentleman remarked, genuinely perplexed. He brushed it aside. “No matter, you’re here now.”

“Why is Donna here?” Rose asked.

“Oh, don’t bother!” Donna rolled her eyes. “I’ve asked and asked. He says I belong here. He also said this is the Doctor’s mind. He’s got dementia.”

“I have not! You just refuse to accept my explanations you insufferable--”

“Stop it, Doctor,” Rose chastised and to Donna’s pleased surprise, he did. “Donna, what do you remember?”

Donna stopped still, thinking. “I heard a heartbeat. The Tardis was falling and burning! But I heard a heartbeat… It was in the jar with his hand, the Doctor’s hand! I touched it. I touched it...and...then nothing. I was here in this flat. Who’s flat is this?”

“My mum’s.” Rose stared at her.

A shiver raced down her spine. Rose was looking at her as if she were a ghost. “Oh my God, am I dead? I’m dead…”

“You’re not dead. S’not what’s happening, is it?” the last part she addressed to the older gentleman continuing, “She’s been copied, sort of. Am I right? I’m right, aren’t I? Like the rest of you. She’s the touchpaper.”

The older gentleman watched her, his eyes amused and his mouth tipping up at the corners. Rose glared at him until he responded, “You’re perfect. And correct, my dear girl. Very astute.” He pointed at Donna and Donna smacked his hand away. “She touched the jar containing my hand. Her entire personality was incorporated into the Doctor along with a portion of her DNA. The new version of me was created, split off from the original but identical in brain chemistry. She is… what was the word I used when you came up with this exact same scenario? After Scarris, girl.”

Prompted, Rose responded, “Ideal.”

“Correct! But now is the time for helping the Doctor.”

“I don’t know what’s happening,” Donna bit out.

Rose grabbed her arm, pelting her with comfort and friendship. “Donna, I know, just remember that you’re you. You’re alive. You’re not dead. You’re saved. Sort of in a weird way. You’re you!”

“I know that. I know who I am! I need to know where I am. And the Doctor, Rose he’s unconscious,” Donna grabbed her hand and dragged her into the guest bedroom where the Doctor slept in striped pajamas. The older gentleman followed. Donna pushed Rose forward. “Help him.”

“Yes,” the gentleman agreed. 

“How do I--?” Rose asked.

“Simply touch his temples. He’ll reach for your mind. Don’t fight him. Understand? Don’t fight. The connection will be overwhelming at first but he is still a timelord. He can control it. You will be fine. Rose, it was lovely to meet you. I’m glad my future is in safe hands.”

Rose nodded. She reached out to touch the Doctor’s head. 

“She’s not going anywhere,” Donna said, “She’s not leaving. Why are you saying goodbye to her? You’re not going to leave me in here?” Donna hated how scared she sounded.

Rose came back to pull her into a reassuring hug. Donna’s emotions mingled and overlapped with Rose’s at the edges. It was strangely pleasant. Rose pulled back before it went from nice to weird. “You can live out all of your memories here. You can interact with the other versions of the Doctor...there’s loads of him in here. You’re not alone.”

“I want to go home,” Donna pleaded.

Rose frowned. “You are home. I mean, the other part of you, is home. You left the Doctor and went home.”

“No, I wouldn’t.” Donna stepped away from her. “I wanted to travel with him forever. I’m never going to stop traveling.”  
“Rose,” the gentleman said. “It’s past time.”

“Right,” Rose agreed. “I’ll talk to ‘im. We’ll fix it. I promise. Until then, just go traveling in the memories. Make the other Doctors show you their adventures. Okay? Donna, I’m gonna fix this.”

Donna nodded. She didn’t believe in Rose, not like the Doctor did but she wanted to. “I’m going to hold you to it, Blondie.”

“Count on it.” 

Rose sat down and reached out to touch the Doctor’s temples. Donna watched as the Doctor took a deep breath. His skin glowed with golden light. Rose was glowing too and when the light met it exploded outward in a wave. “Don’t forget me, Rose.”

The Doctor’s eyes snapped open. Birds chirped. Bright sunlight slanted through the window leaving pools of golden light onto their bed. Rose was wrapped around his sleeping body like a squid. He blinked to clear the sleep and felt the hum of her mind against his. Oooh, that was new. He touched the little spot of warmth in his mind and a sleepy response flickered against him.

He felt wonderful. Memories trickled back in from the day before. “Oh, oh I am in so much trouble.”

“Mmph,” Rose agreed as her presence took on the brighter tones of awareness. “M gonna kill ya,” she whispered.

He hugged her to him as she tried to disentangle herself from him and the blankets. “And after you went through all the trouble of saving my life? What a waste of a good rescue,” he whispered. 

“What do you remember?” she asked, moving off of him, and sitting up. She stretched giving him a great view of the sliver of stomach between her shirt and trousers. He wondered if he could distract her with sex? She arched a brow. “Doctor,” she prompted.

“I erm, came home from work, hallucinated a bit… Drank tea?” His mind felt muzzy. There were new half-memories lurking in there. He would need to meditate to set them right. He shrugged. “I know you were in m’head. Not sure what you did there. Oh no! Did you meet the prettier versions of me?”

“Yeah, think I’ve met all of you now. Why didn’t you tell me about the migraines?”

“Does it matter? I’m cured! You cured me,” he chirruped. “And you’re not going to let me get away with that, are you?”

Rose’s eyes were dark with anger. She had that little frowny line between her brows. She was beautifully furious with him. “Doctor.”

He ran a hand through his greasy hair, ruffling it at the back to buy time. “Rose, it was, it started slow, and at first I thought it was just a normal headache…”

“And then…” Rose prompted.

He wanted a toothbrush. He wanted a bath or a shower, preferably with Rose. Rose’s brows were both arched now. Not good. Very, most certainly, not good in the highest degree. And they were connected. Rose was aware of his carousel of emotions. Hm, that might be useful for the makeup sex…

“Doctor,” she said exasperated. “Fine, guess I’ll spend the day with my mum.” She slid off the bed. He snagged her wrist. “Let go.”

He did. 

“Don’t leave.” 

“M not happy about this. I’m furious. You hid a life-threatenin’ illness from me! I want to scream at you. I want to shake you…”

“Yes, fine. Do that. I deserve it, Rose. Don’t leave.” Panic flushed him. “I thought--I thought I might be wrong.”

She paused, listening. Right, okay, truth time. He tugged on his ear. The truth was always so truth-y and hard.

“Me. I thought the meta crisis was a failure. And I thought that was impossible. I didn’t know. I wasn’t sure. I ran tests. I seemed fine. Stable. I was going to tell you--”

Rose scoffed.

“I was,” he insisted, “when I knew what was happening. I was afraid of disappointing you. Of leaving you alone again. I couldn’t bear the idea. I couldn’t do that to you. I couldn’t let you worry about that if it was just a brain tumor or a problem with my glasses prescription or a new allergy or an old allergy. Maybe your mother was spiking my lunch with gherkins and erm, aspirin. I didn’t want to scare you. I was plenty scared for the both of us.”

Rose sat down on the edge of the bed. “You were right.”

“What-?”

“You are a pretty idiot.” Rose huffed out a breath, reaching out to pet him. 

“I never said--Oh, you talked to the other one, the angry-in-a-spoon one,” he grumbled.

“I’m not even going to attempt to understand that,” Rose said waving it off. “If I didn’t already know you were 100% you, this would have convinced me.”

“Why do I think there’s not a compliment in there…” 

“We’re in this together. If you don’t believe that then what did you stay in an alternate universe with me for?” 

He hung his head. “I--”

“You have to promise to tell me if you feel ill. You have to promise me and mean it. We’re a team. I glued my mind to your mind,” she said.

“No, that’s not how it--”

“Did I make a mistake? Because if you keep shutting me out, I’ll eventually stay out.”

“No, no, no, no, Rose,” he pulled her onto his lap. “I promise. I will tell you everything. Even if it’s silly.”

“Hangnails?” Rose asked allowing him to comfort her.

He bobbed his head. “Yes. And splinters. Papercuts… banged elbows, all of it. I swear.”

She ducked her head. “You better mean it.” 

He did. “I do! You can check my mind for it. You have my permission to check me. And Rose, now with our minds linked, I can teach you how to tell when I’m lying.”

Rose glanced up sharply. “Really?”

“Yes. Please don’t spend the day with your mum. Spend it with me. We can call in to work, and I can teach you how to enjoy our link,” he ducked his head to catch her eyes. “I love you. I’m so so sorry I’m a pretty idiot.”

“You’re my pretty idiot.”

“Yeah, I am. So when are you going to tell your mother?” he asked.

A puzzled expression replaced her furious one. “Tell her what? That you’re an idiot?”

“Oh Rose! She already knows that. Calls me an idiot several times a day. Well, I say idiot but I mean plum or prawn or--”

“Tell her what then?”

“That we’re married…” he said, surprised she hadn’t immediately jumped on that.

“We’re what? Doctor, I didn’t marry you,” Rose squirmed away from him. 

He caught hold of her hands. “Yes, yes you did.” He tapped his temple. 

“The mind link?” Rose gasped. “Oh no, you never said…I talked to seven different versions of you. Not a single one decided to fill me in?” Rose’s angry frowny wrinkle was back. “I am going to kill you.”

“You’d murder your own husband? What kind of wife are you?”

Rose slammed a pillow into his face. “You plum!”

“Your plum!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! It got weirder! Thanks for reading. There is an Epilogue.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things get wrapped up.

Rose found him a week later with his old blue jacket on the bed. Piles of stuff littered the bed. Timelords were half packrat, at least hers were. The pile was high and things had spilled over onto the floor. His arm was in the pocket up to his elbow, a look of concentration on his face.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a mess,” he remarked and arched a brow at her as if to say, “obviously.”

“Why?” Rose asked lying on the edge of the bed in the only clear space. “Thought you got all the good stuff out of there.”

“S’not important to the Tardis' growth. We’re set. She’s growing nicely in the spare bathroom. This is for...something else,” he glanced up unsure what to tell her. “You’re sure there’s no Donna in this universe?”  
“No, Sylvia had a son, Dorian.” Rose poked at a recorder. Picking it up, she blew a few terrible notes. The Doctor liberated it from her. “Why?”

“Need something of hers--” his fingers gripped something prickly. It was a hedgehog. He handed the live animal to Rose. “Here, this is Reggie.”

Rose cuddled the little animal. “Was he what you were hunting for? Hang on, how has he survived in your pocket? It’s been ages since we got here.” 

The Doctor tsked. “Timelord technology.” He went back to hunting. “We went to a spa planet. She used to make me carry a kit for her. Like you always did.” He indicated Rose’s old overnight kit. Rose crowed and grabbed it up. “I hope it has my mascara in here so you can make me some more.”

“Oooh, a secret project. Now I have three!” he exclaimed gleefully.

“You’ll like these secrets, promise.” He reached into the opposite pocket. His fingers touched velvet. “Oh, oh, this feels right,” he pulled the emerald green overnight kit out. “Oh please, please, please,” he chanted unzipping it. “Gotcha!”

He held up his prize, sure Rose would be excited. Instead, she was puzzled.

“It’s an old hairbrush.” Rose reached out to take it. He held it away from here.

“Yes, it’s Donna’s old hairbrush. And this,” he pointed to the red hair, “is Donna Noble’s DNA!”

Rose’s smile was a thing of beauty. “Oh my God! Ideal,” she breathed.

“Oh yes, though no for the moment. I don’t have the right cloning technology here on Earth. We’d have to wait for the Tardis. Then a quick jaunt to the future. Then I can pop her out of here,” he tapped his temple, “where she is, in fact, making me nuts to here,” he pointed to the brush.”

“Does that mean you won’t like shoe shopping anymore?” Rose asked.

“Rassilon, I hope so.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's another idea I have. I've had it for a while and I just haven't gotten to it. So, this series isn't over yet. Thanks for reading this series. It's a strange fluffy world. I promise you, there will never not be a happy ending.

**Author's Note:**

> I love multi-Doctor stories. This is weird fun way to get to do that with Rose.


End file.
